


Sea Turtle

by Glitter_Bug



Series: Lego Fun With Billy and Steve [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Abusive Neil Hargrove, Angst, Childhood, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Lego, Little Kid Billy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26034052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitter_Bug/pseuds/Glitter_Bug
Summary: A little glimpse into Billy's childhood.He just wants to make something special for his mom.'A large green sea turtle.His mom's favourite animal ever.She'd told him once when they were at the beach together. He'd been showing her how he could paddle out on his surfboard and she'd laughed and called him her little turtle.Billy had scowled. Didn't want to be a dumb, plodding turtle. He was fast- like a shark, one of those fierce ones with the beady eyes, zipping round the sea and biting anyone who bothered him; anyone who made him angry or upset or feel small or scared would get a chomp.’
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Billy Hargrove's Mother
Series: Lego Fun With Billy and Steve [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889752
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	Sea Turtle

**Author's Note:**

> Another dive into 'Billy and Steve play with Lego' except this time there's no Steve.  
> Just a little look at lil' kid Billy and his life before Hawkins.
> 
> Neil Hargrove is a dick in this, no real violence but definitely hints of it.

_And even if time is passing me by a lot_  
_I couldn't care less about the dues you say I got_  
_Tomorrow I'll pay the dues for dropping my load_  
_A pie in the face for being a sleepy bull toad  
  
_  
Billy awoke to his mother's gentle voice singing along to the radio, muddling the lyrics and laughing at her mistakes. It felt like a good day already- the summer holidays were stretching out ahead and Billy jumped out of bed eagerly, bare feet skidding on the floor as he ran in to the kitchen.  
  
"Morning sleepyhead," his mother beamed at him, grabbing him in a hug and dropping a kiss into his curls, "I was wondering when my little sleepy bull toad was going to rise and shine." She bustled around the kitchen, pulling together his breakfast and humming softly. Billy settled himself at the table, leg bouncing with excitement at the prospect of a whole day to fill.  
  
"Can we go to the beach today?" Billy asked eagerly, swinging his legs as he swirled his spoon around in his cereal bowl, "I wanna have another try on my board. I really nearly got it yesterday and I'm even stronger today so now it'll be easy."   
  
"Hmm I can definitely tell that you're stronger, my big boy," Billy's mom squeezed his arm playfully as she came to sit next to him, "but I can't take you today sweetie, I'm sorry."  
  
Billy wrinkled his nose in confusion, looking up at her, "Why?"  
  
"It's a chore day today, there's too many little jobs to get done. Your Dad won't be happy if he doesn't have any clean shirts for work tomorrow."  
  
"Oh." Billy nodded; a small pout was on his face but he couldn't argue with that. He definitely didn't want his Dad to be grumpy. "Ok."   
  
He was quiet as he finished his cereal, and Donna leaned in closer, "Don't worry, we'll think of something fun to do. And if you don't, you can always help me to clean the toilet."   
  
"Ugh!" Billy pulled a disgusted face, causing Donna to laugh as she took away his empty bowl, He dropped down from his chair and scurried off to his bedroom, head buzzing with ideas. He was pretty sure he could think of something else to do, something fun and exciting and way way better than _chores_.  
  
  
******  
Billy scooped up his pyjamas and played a quick game of throwing them into the laundry basket by the door, giving himself some bonus points when his pyjama top bounced off the wall before landing right in. Billy knew better than to leave any clothes lying on the floor, his Dad was particular about Billy picking up after himself. Billy had heard him yelling at his mom enough times- ' _he's not a damn baby anymore Donna, he's gotta learn to take some responsibility for himself. If you're not going to teach him then I will_ '- Billy had learned pretty quickly that it was best to give his Dad as little to complain about as possible. It was easier when it was just Billy and his mom, she didn't mind too much if he left things lying around, or forget to rinse out the sink after brushing his teeth, she'd just mess his hair and call him her 'silly Billy' before helping him to make it all neat again, and she usually found a way to even make the tidying fun. She was really clever like that.  
  
Billy went over to make his bed, remembering the exact Army-style way his Dad insisted on- 's _ort it out Billy, you're old enough to make your own damn bed now_ '. As he pulled the blanket tight, Billy's toes caught the edge of a large canvas bag under the bed and an idea came to mind. He grabbed at it, heaving it out from its hiding place and dragging it carefully into the kitchen. It was nearly as tall as him and full of Lego bricks. Donna had found it at a yard sale; someone was getting rid of their entire collection and didn't even want that much for it. Apparently, it had all gotten wet when their basement flooded, and had never smelt right since. Billy remembered his mom standing by the sink for hours, scrubbing at each brick with a toothbrush until they were as good as new. He used to play with them for hours- building until his hands ached and losing himself in his little block world, making animals and vehicles and spaceships and always, _always_ a little block house right on the beach- just big enough for two.  
  
He remembered the last time he'd played with it. He'd been a bit enthusiastic- ' _careless, useless_ '- and left one of his Lego cars on the floor. Right where Neil had stepped. Billy remembered the crunch of the blocks, the shouting, the way his Dad had hurled the car at the wall and the slow way he'd started to walk towards Billy. Remembered his mom rushing in and getting his Dad's attention, remembered her voice, usually so calm and warm but then high and panicked, as she gabbled on about the neighbours and some kind of argument over a fence and _'could you just come and look, Neil? I know you can make them see sense. They'll listen to you_ , ' before she'd quickly ushered Billy up and into his room.

Billy hadn't even heard his mom talking to the neighbours that day.  
  
She must've done it without him even seeing. She was clever like that.  
  
Billy thinks he might remember his Dad shouting at the neighbours. Or at someone. He thinks he even remembers his mom shouting too, but that seems unlikely. His mom really liked Mr. and Mrs. Yates from next door and she never ever shouted, so he must've been wrong about that.  
  
He remembered thinking that the fence must have been important, because when his mom came to tuck him in, she looked like she'd been crying. He remembers hoping that his Dad sorted out whatever the problem was. He was pretty sure his Dad could sort out everything.  
  
When Donna came in, she had shoved the bag of Lego under Billy's bed, pushing it right under so no one would trip over it. Made it so that you could hardly see it was under there. Neat and tidy and no trouble to anyone.   
  
"Maybe play with something else this week, hey?" she'd murmured, patting his hair and kissing him goodnight.   
  
****  
Donna turned round as Billy entered the kitchen, a tight smile on her face as she saw the bag.  
  
"That's a good idea baby, that'll keep you busy. Let's try and keep it all on the table this time though? I don't want to step on any."  
  
Billy nodded at her and tipped out a few of the bricks carefully. The table wasn't quite big enough for a whole world, and he probably shouldn't get out too many blocks just in case. He wondered what to make, thinking excitedly about a cowboy ranch with good guys on horses and bad guys getting tied up and put in a jail. His Dad loved Westerns, would sit up late at night watching them while he drank his beers. Billy thought that if he made a good enough town, his Dad might even want to join in and play.  
  
But then Billy thought a little harder. Thought about what had happened before. Thought about what would happen if he asked his Dad to play and he wasn't in a good mood. Billy thought hard.  
  
"You having some trouble there sweetheart?" Donna asked as she entered the kitchen, arms piled high with magazines and papers to be thrown away. Billy's screwed up expression softened into one of annoyance.  
  
"I can't think of what to build. All my ideas are too big or too hard or not fun enough. But I know I want to make something."   
  
"Hmm," Donna thought for a second, dropping the bundle of papers onto the counter and leafing through one of the National Geographics. She passed it over to Billy "Inspiration!" she smiled, and he looked down to see a series of photographs of different sea creatures, "Maybe you can bring the beach inside today."  
  
Billy pursed his lips and then grinned, hands already reaching out for some bricks. "Yeah! I could make a whole ocean. I could do a shark and a whale and a dolphin and a big puffy fish and this weird one with the light on its head!" He turned a few more pages- building up his imaginary aquarium as he did so- until one of the creatures caught his eye.   
  
A large green sea turtle.  
  
His mom's favourite animal ever.  
  
She'd told him once when they were at the beach together. He'd been showing her how he could paddle out on his surfboard and she'd laughed and called him her little turtle.   
  
Billy had scowled. Didn't want to be a dumb, plodding turtle. He was fast- like a shark, one of those fierce ones with the beady eyes, zipping round the sea and biting anyone who bothered him; anyone who made him angry or upset or feel small or scared would get a chomp.  
  
His mom had raised an eyebrow at his expression, "Turtles are pretty cool, y'know. They can live to be over a hundred years old." Billy obviously hadn't look impressed, as she'd continued, "and they can swim for miles and miles, and they were around when the dinosaurs were here."  
  
That was a bit more exciting at least. Dinosaurs were definitely cool. Billy still wasn't entirely convinced, but his mom's voice had gone quieter and so he kept listening, "I think if I had to be any animal, I'd be a turtle. I'd love to just get in the water and swim and swim and see what's out there. See what's all the way on the other side of the ocean." She had stared wistfully out at the sea, lost in her own head for a few minutes until she'd turned back to Billy and playfully wagged her finger at him, "But don't you dare do that Mister. Only as far as that rock or I'm coming in and dragging you out myself!"   
  
Billy had giggled then, jumping up with his board and running back into the sea while his mother watched from the shore- her gaze fixed on him as he paddled away and away.   
  
So that was it.  
  
It was decided.   
  
A sea turtle. Extra big and extra special, just for his mom.  
  
Billy got started.  
  
  
******  
Donna sang loudly along with the radio as Billy searched through the bag. He knew the piece was in there somewhere, but he just couldn't spot it. He let out a sigh, feeling like he was seeing the same few pieces every single time he searched. He opened the neck of the bag wider, pushing his head inside as far as he could before his mom called out, "What are you doing Billy-Boo? Is my singing that bad that you have to hide away?" Billy could hear the amusement in her tone, but it didn't stop him grumbling as he withdrew his head,  
  
"I know what I need, it's like a round circley piece, but it's _not there._ I've been looking for hours and hours and I'm never gonna find it and my turtle just won't look right." He could feel himself getting upset, a burn starting in his eyes and throat. It happened occasionally, when he just couldn't quite get something right- especially when he was trying his hardest. It happened a lot when he played baseball, he just couldn't get the timing right for his swing or figure out how to switch up a pitch, but Billy would keep on trying and trying until it all became too much and he started to cry. It was another thing his Dad hated, told him ' _not to be a pussy. What the hell good is whining going to do?_ ' Billy had started to hate it too, started to feel anger at himself for not being able to do a simple thing right. He supposed angry was better than whiny, at least in his Dad's eyes.  
  
Billy's mom noticed the roughness in his voice, noticed the way that Billy's eyes were screwed up and his hand was squeezing down hard on the neck of the bag. She put down the load of laundry she'd been about to put in the washer, dumping it down on the floor as she placed a hand on Billy's head.  
  
"Aww that's a pooper- I bet it's really tricky to find anything in that bag, it's so dark in there. I bet it's slipped right down to the bottom," she heaved the bag around a few times, mixing the pieces round and taking a look for herself. "Why don't we just tip a few out- just a few to help us see." Donna heaved the bag up, holding it in the middle and letting the top layer of bricks fall on to the kitchen table with a clatter. It was more than a few. It was a lot. They splashed onto the wood and quite a few spilled over onto the floor. Billy's eyes widened in shock, but his mom simply smiled, swishing her hands through the pieces and spreading them out.

"Oops! But hey! That looks like a round circley thing," she grabbed at a piece and held it out to Billy who took it immediately, smile back on his face. "That's it! Thanks Momma!"   
  
Donna wrapped him in a one-armed hug, "That's what moms are for baby," before grabbing a duster from under the sink and heading towards the bedrooms.  
  
Billy wasn't sure how long he spent on the turtle, totally focused on what he was creating. His mom popped in a few times to check on his progress, making him a drink and a quick snack before heading off to get on with another chore. They both took a longer break for lunch, looking through the National Geographic together as Donna told him lots and lots about the other sea creatures. Billy hadn't realised that she knew so much; all about habitats and migration and how some animals were endangered and might even disappear forever before Billy got a chance to see one. She'd been sad then, and Billy made sure to ask her lots of questions to take her mind off it. Her eyes sparkling again as she shared her knowledge, the way they did when she was happiest. The way they hadn't been doing as much lately. Billy was glad he'd seen it again and even gladder than he'd helped to put it there. His Mom was the happiest person he knew; she just forgot how to do it sometimes.  
  
  
Billy didn't think he'd ever worked as long or as hard on something as he was doing on his turtle. It was even better than his most spectacular Camelot castle, with proper battlements and little arrow windows and a drawbridge that could go up and down. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, how he wanted it to look, and he was so close. It was all coming together and it looked exactly like the turtle in his book. There was just one little bit missing- one detail that Billy knew would make it the best Lego turtle anyone had ever made. He reached deep into the bag, tipping a few more layers of brick onto the table as he searched out a variety of flat red pieces. Clicking them together, her managed to make a small, blocky representation of a heart which he stuck down firmly on top of his turtle's shell.  
  
"Momma, mom, mom! I'm done! I did it- look!" Billy's smile filled his face as he held up the turtle. "Look! It stays together now and everything. I bet it could even go in the bath and it wouldn't break up or anything."  
  
Billy's mom took the turtle from him carefully, admiring it from every angle, "You can test it out tonight- see if it floats or sinks. Oh it looks so good baby, you did so well! I love her little heart." Billy could see that happy sparkle in her eyes and he beamed, "I know they don't really have heart patterns. But I wanted to make it special for you."  
"She is special, and who knows- I've not seen all of the turtles in the world. Maybe some of them do have heart patterns. Maybe some have stars or flowers or kitty cat faces." Donna carefully placed the turtle back down in front of Billy, moving to the counter and turning away from him. "Maybe there's one out there with a splodge that looks exactly like a lovely sunny boy with a space in his tummy for a chocolate chip cookie?"   
  
She turned back, placing one of her homemade cookies in front of him, alongside a cool glass of milk. Billy laughed at her silliness, biting into his cookie and ignoring the crumbs which spilled down his shirt. "Thanks Momma," he smiled, turning back to his National Geographic. The turtle had taken a long time, but now he was eager to build another creature. Maybe a hammerhead shark? Billy wasn't sure how he'd do the head, but he was up for the challenge. He finished the cookie quickly, and began raking his hands through the pile of bricks on the table- not quite sure exactly what he was looking for, but certain he'd know it when he saw it. Donna started to hum softly again, clattering pans and stirring something in a pot, when the door slammed suddenly.  
  
They both froze.   
  
Donna with her arms splattered in sauce and a half-prepared meal on the stove, Billy sitting amidst a smattering of cookie crumbs and a table full of Lego, his heart patterned turtle perched in front of him. Billy looked up at his mom, who was biting her lip and glancing wildly from the clock to the door.  
  
"Is that really the time? Oh that's not- I hope he- Billy, baby why don't you go and-"  
  
It was too late. Neil had already stepped into the kitchen, his anger palpable. His eyes scanned the kitchen- raked over the pile of dirty clothes on the floor, the pile of magazines and papers on the counter, the half-made dinner standing on the hob and surrounded by a mass of dripping pots and pans. His gaze flicked to Billy, sitting stock still and with his eyes wide.  
  
"Donna?" Neil's voice was low. He looked again at the scene in front of him, "What have you been doing today?"  
  
Billy's mom hurried forward, standing in front of Billy and reaching out to lay a hand on Neil's arm. "We were just having some fun inside and I guess I lost track of time," the words were carefree and light, but there was a noticeable tremble in her voice and her smile was tight, "Why don't you go and sit down, relax, I'll bring a beer in-"   
  
Donna attempted to steer Neil into the lounge, away from Billy and the mess, but he held firm shaking her off and marching over to the table.  
  
"I spend all goddamn day working hard to keep a roof over our heads. All I want is a clean house and dinner on the table when I get home. Other wives manage it. I really don't see why you always find it so difficult." Neil's voice was quiet, but Billy could see the twitch of his mouth, saw the way he brought a hand up to rub against his moustache. Billy curled himself small and still as Neil's eyes slid back to him.   
  
"Billy?"  
  
Donna stepped forward again, "He's just about to go and wash up for dinner, aren't you ba-Bill?"   
  
Billy nodded quickly, head down, and lowered himself down from the chair, scattering cookie crumbs and a few Lego pieces as he did so. Neil grabbed his arm roughly, "No. He made a mess. He can damn well clean it all up." Neil's fingers dug painfully into Billy's arm, "It's about time he grew up." With that he pushed Billy back towards the table, lowering himself until they were face to face, "CLEAN IT UP," he roared- making Billy jump.  
  
Billy scrambled to grab the canvas bag, blinking away the tears that were starting to fill his eyes and hurriedly scooping up as many bricks as he could. But they were small and fiddly, and his hands were clumsy and sweaty and Billy realised he was dropping almost as many as he was cramming into the bag. Out of the corner of his eye he could see him mom frantically pulling together dinner, slopping it out onto the plates and dropping the pots into the sink in a hurry to clear the counters. She wasn't looking at him, wasn't going to help make the tidying fun this time.  
  
Billy's felt his nose start to run, and he sniffed, causing Neil to bark out, "Don't you start blubbing. You make a mess in this house; you sort it out." Billy scooped faster, knocking more and more bricks onto the floor in his haste. He chanced a glance up at Neil, wondering if he'd been distracted by beer or dinner or something, anything, to take his cold eyes away from Billy, but instead that furious gaze was locked right on him and his nostrils flared as they locked eyes.  
  
"Useless, totally useless," Neil growled- reaching over to pick up the Lego turtle laying on the table. He screwed up his face in disgust. "Is this what you spent all day doing? Instead of being out, with your friends, you spend all day making little animals with mommy like some kind of sissy?"  
  
Billy's face flooded with shame, and he lowered his head- little hands curling into fists as he forced himself not to rub at his eyes, forced himself not to sniff and snivel like a baby.  
  
"Oh Neil no, _please_ , he made that for me," Donna stepped forward, reaching for the turtle, her voice high and frantic, "dinner's ready now anyway- let's all eat in front of the TV tonight, call it a special treat, I can clear-"   
  
She was cut off by a loud smash as Neil flung the turtle to the floor. Green and brown and yellow bricks skidded along the scuffed linoleum, scattering under cabinets and lodging into the forgotten pile of laundry. Neil raised his foot, stamping down on the largest part of the turtle. The heart covered shell, which had mostly survived the initial crash, was no match for his boot, splintering and cracking as Neil drove his foot down.  
  
"Billy will stay in here until every piece is picked up. Every single piece." Neil said, his voice level and coldly calm. "Leave the bag on the table when you're done and get to bed."   
  
He walked out of the kitchen without a glace back at either of them. Donna waited a moment, her hands full of crockery, before turning to Billy- her eyes heavy, "I'll be up later," she whispered- before following after Neil.   
  
Billy took a gulping breath as he watched her go, then he dropped to the floor, the tears spilling from his eyes and sharp pains biting his legs where he knelt on the bricks. He worked quickly, handfuls and handfuls of bricks stuffed into the bag as he ignored the rumble of his stomach and the burn in his eyes. He tried not to glance at the broken bits of his turtle as he hurried to stash them away, the small red heart had fallen from the shell, but had somehow stayed intact. Billy grabbed at it angrily- breaking it up and letting the pieces fall into the bag. He could hear the drone of the television in the other room, the clatter of cutlery the only other sound as his parents ate in silence. He tidied quickly, afraid to still be there when Neil came to get his usual after-dinner beer, and the floor and table were soon clean. The bag lay on the table- as Neil had instructed- and Billy gave the kitchen one last look, one last check for any scattered bricks, before he trudged down the hall to the bathroom and started getting ready for bed.  
  
  
  
***  
His mom didn't come to tuck him in.   
  
When he woke up the next morning, the canvas bag was gone.   
  
Billy never found where it had been hidden.   
  
He was probably too big to play with Lego anyway.   
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
